Z and I leave in an hour. I'm anxious. We have to fly to NYC to go west...that's a cheap flight for ya. I had an ultrasound this morning. It went very well. The baby is healthy and big. The doc commented on it. Great.
As soon as I get to KC and have the rental with the car seat, I will be at ease. I want Z to have a good time. I want her to enjoy herself. I want to enjoy myself. I want to relaxed and not a hyper spaz. I tend to do that when I'm nervous.
So, I'm off for 10 days. I'll see you when I get back. Think good thoughts. They always help.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
My name is Valerie and I am a co-dependent.
I've been on hiatus. Mostly from my mind--and it seems I still am. In preparation for my Kansas trip (I leave on Friday for ten days), it seems I've vacated all intellectual capabilities. I've also been sick...still. I made it to the second trimester with no relief. Some mornings I'm fine, only to be sick in the evenings. And some mornings I spend running to the bathroom or passed out on the couch.
Jason is out most of the week in Canada. Z and I are getting along okay. I get a little paranoid at night and barricade Z and I in my room--locking the doors and jumping at all sounds until I fall asleep. I blame my fondness of horror flicks for this one.
Kansas is always a strange mixture of excitement, love and awkwardness. When I'm around family, I seem to feel 15 again. When I'm in Lawrence, I convince myself that I should live there and feel sad that I don't. (I love it there.) When I'm around old friends, I feel pretty at ease and wonder why I live so far away. It will be nice to have Z with me. I'm so proud of her and she is so fun and darling. I want her to be around these people...and to have a fondness of Kansas as well. By the time I'm headed back I find myself deep in thought. I'm happy to live in New York now--but Kansas, Lawrence especially, pulls on my heart strings so much that I can barely take it.
I sought out a place for myself to have a family away from the pull of...well, anyone that ties me to the past. I made it here and I'm happy. I struggled to carve out a place for myself. If around my friends and family, I tend to lean into their lives and sort of forget about what I may want to do alone. I do well just escaping into other people's lives. I mold into whatever they are...because I like them so much. I am a co-dependent. Yes. That's really the gist of it. I struggle with it and always have. It's an addiction. Isn't that weird? I get addicted to people. Strong personalities, especially. Jason has the magical power of being stable, comfortable and somewhat detached. He has a hard time allowing himself to need people--even his family. I know he trusts and loves me--but he rarely shows his true self to anyone else. He's a loner. He makes it possible to create my own world for me and he doesn't invade. He's supportive of anything I want to do, but is never pushy. It's interesting who we find ourselves married to. Either you think, "Gosh, he is perfect for me" or "What was I thinking?" Of course, if we're honest--we say both things sometimes.
more ramblings at another time.
Jason is out most of the week in Canada. Z and I are getting along okay. I get a little paranoid at night and barricade Z and I in my room--locking the doors and jumping at all sounds until I fall asleep. I blame my fondness of horror flicks for this one.
Kansas is always a strange mixture of excitement, love and awkwardness. When I'm around family, I seem to feel 15 again. When I'm in Lawrence, I convince myself that I should live there and feel sad that I don't. (I love it there.) When I'm around old friends, I feel pretty at ease and wonder why I live so far away. It will be nice to have Z with me. I'm so proud of her and she is so fun and darling. I want her to be around these people...and to have a fondness of Kansas as well. By the time I'm headed back I find myself deep in thought. I'm happy to live in New York now--but Kansas, Lawrence especially, pulls on my heart strings so much that I can barely take it.
I sought out a place for myself to have a family away from the pull of...well, anyone that ties me to the past. I made it here and I'm happy. I struggled to carve out a place for myself. If around my friends and family, I tend to lean into their lives and sort of forget about what I may want to do alone. I do well just escaping into other people's lives. I mold into whatever they are...because I like them so much. I am a co-dependent. Yes. That's really the gist of it. I struggle with it and always have. It's an addiction. Isn't that weird? I get addicted to people. Strong personalities, especially. Jason has the magical power of being stable, comfortable and somewhat detached. He has a hard time allowing himself to need people--even his family. I know he trusts and loves me--but he rarely shows his true self to anyone else. He's a loner. He makes it possible to create my own world for me and he doesn't invade. He's supportive of anything I want to do, but is never pushy. It's interesting who we find ourselves married to. Either you think, "Gosh, he is perfect for me" or "What was I thinking?" Of course, if we're honest--we say both things sometimes.
more ramblings at another time.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Sense memory.
Sometimes the lighting of a particular lamp will take me back to my childhood. The way the shade creates a warm amber glow-- I'm 5 again. Sometimes it's the sound of snow, the look of shadows on the carpet, the sound of a lawn mower. I have a memory bank that is filled with sounds and sights that create comfort. I love the sound of a tent zipper. I love hearing a basketball bouncing on concrete. I love sun shining on the carpet. My childhood had its share of yuck--any child of divorce does. However, I have a lot of happiness as well. I was lucky to have amazing grandparents that created a world of love and acceptance. I have very open minded parents that didn't acknowledge small town ideas or biases. I focused a lot on what I didn't have in previous years. I struggled with some family relationships--but I think a lot of teens do. I used the wounds of youth as my excuse for not achieving, not doing and not caring. Now, I realize (as only adulthood can bring) how lucky I was. I grew up in a small town. It was safe. I had educated parents. Yes, occasionally they acted selfishly, but we all do as adults at times. I had a great first love--it came with ups and downs and heartbreak--but it was enough to sustain a lifetime of memories and good feelings. I was very lucky to have the friends from that small town--not at all like characters that are portrayed in movies--ignorant, backwoods fools.
I spent my life, it seems, trying to escape Kansas and all of the hard feelings I felt as a kid. Things aren't perfect there. I wanted to create my own little world to raise my kids in. I wanted to take all of the happy parts of childhood and get away from the constant reminders of the things that didn't turn out quite as well. I admit to trying to create something that matches what my dream-like scenario would have been as a kid. I want the streets and the houses and the town to look a certain way. I want a certain feeling. I want to create a kind of movie set for Z's childhood to take place. I want to stage memories so they are perfect-- like, my own personal Truman Show. That's impossible. But it doesn't mean I don't still try. Already--some of those memories I would have loved for her to have are ruined. I loved hearing the mower next door. I found comfort knowing Bill was mowing the yard. I knew that if I stepped out for a moment, he would smile and waive and turn off the mower to chat. He was a friendly, safe and comforting presence. He, Melissa and Paige were suppose to live next door and come over on the weekends and grill and laugh and talk with us. Z was suppose to grow up with those memories of her parents and their friends--and how kind everyone was to her. They were suppose to create a safe place for her to grow up. Now Bill is gone. When I hear a mower next door, it just makes me sad because I know it's not him. I more than hate that.
All these thoughts pour out because I saw that glow of a lampshade in a certain color in a scene of a movie. Our minds are amazing things. I might be just a little a bit more affected by things--but I'm happier for it. I'm thrilled that at 37, I can hear a lawn mower in the neighborhood and feel as happy as I did knowing it was my dad in the backyard when I was 10. It was comforting somehow. Everything was right in the universe--because the grass was being mowed. (?)
I spent my life, it seems, trying to escape Kansas and all of the hard feelings I felt as a kid. Things aren't perfect there. I wanted to create my own little world to raise my kids in. I wanted to take all of the happy parts of childhood and get away from the constant reminders of the things that didn't turn out quite as well. I admit to trying to create something that matches what my dream-like scenario would have been as a kid. I want the streets and the houses and the town to look a certain way. I want a certain feeling. I want to create a kind of movie set for Z's childhood to take place. I want to stage memories so they are perfect-- like, my own personal Truman Show. That's impossible. But it doesn't mean I don't still try. Already--some of those memories I would have loved for her to have are ruined. I loved hearing the mower next door. I found comfort knowing Bill was mowing the yard. I knew that if I stepped out for a moment, he would smile and waive and turn off the mower to chat. He was a friendly, safe and comforting presence. He, Melissa and Paige were suppose to live next door and come over on the weekends and grill and laugh and talk with us. Z was suppose to grow up with those memories of her parents and their friends--and how kind everyone was to her. They were suppose to create a safe place for her to grow up. Now Bill is gone. When I hear a mower next door, it just makes me sad because I know it's not him. I more than hate that.
All these thoughts pour out because I saw that glow of a lampshade in a certain color in a scene of a movie. Our minds are amazing things. I might be just a little a bit more affected by things--but I'm happier for it. I'm thrilled that at 37, I can hear a lawn mower in the neighborhood and feel as happy as I did knowing it was my dad in the backyard when I was 10. It was comforting somehow. Everything was right in the universe--because the grass was being mowed. (?)
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Saturday
The house is a complete disaster. There are dishes piled in the kitchen. There is laundry unfolded in 3 rooms. We don't have much food--a grocery store run needs to happen. I'm a little nauseous...well, a lot. However, we did dye eggs. Z went to her music class and then to the playground this morning. I showered. I got to see The Hunger Games last night. (read the book) I spent time with Melissa last night.
The sun is shining--oh well, it's chilly.
I'm going to count today a win. The house is a loss, but who really cares. You won't see it.
Tonight--early bedtime and a new start tomorrow.
The sun is shining--oh well, it's chilly.
I'm going to count today a win. The house is a loss, but who really cares. You won't see it.
Tonight--early bedtime and a new start tomorrow.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
i need a new therapist. but for today, you'll do.
For the past month or so, I feel my days have had no shape or structure. It's starting to wear on me. I don't make firm plans for anything because I never know how I will be feeling. Hopefully I am nearing the end of being sick. I've also been disconnected from friends and myself. I was so worried about things not working out that I put a lot of distance between me and the baby. My shock of losing the last one made me completely disconnect from any ideas of having another and I spent a year questioning what to do. I am weak in that regard. (Well, in many) Now that I am nearing the 12th week, I'm feeling better about things and am trying to get back to normal. I've been in a fog. I've spent almost zero times with friends and have been pretty much housebound. To the unknowing eye--I was in a deep depression, maybe. No. But I do admit to switching to auto pilot and not playing an active role in my own life. My way of dealing with stress isn't healthy. I used to plunge into things, feeling so much I would drown. And as a drowning victim, I now sit out of the water and don't go near it. I've been slow to understand the healthy way. I have plenty of healthy examples around me--but I can't seem to do it. I lived in my feelings in the past. That is also paralyzing. I really need to figure this out.
Anyway, so I've decided to start getting back to the self I was a few months ago. I need structure again. I need to have some type of schedule. I need to get back to the gym. I need to start doing chores on a regular basis again. I need to make lists and cross things off--have some type of proven productivity. I need to start dressing for the day again instead of living in my night clothes. We've been living on take out and delivery for long enough. Jason hasn't complained. He just says it's hard to see me so sick and that he's never seen me go through anything like it before.
Most importantly, we need to start getting excited and prepared for the baby. We can't be scared to be close. We can't shy away from loving in fear of losing.
Yesterday, I was thinking about how I go about protecting myself emotionally. I made some comment about the roofer next door on FB and then I felt so bad about it--thinking it was disrespectful to Jason for me to act so silly about it. I protect myself a lot when it comes to marriage as well. I don't think Jason notices--or maybe he does. I make comments to girlfriends about things that I shouldn't. I think marriages go through many phases. I get scared during certain times. I feel lonely. He is busy working his job and getting his Master's degree. There isn't a lot of extra time just to sit and be together. Due to the relationship I had with my father growing up (a longer story, but it's okay now)--when I feel as if someone is closed off emotionally (or just very busy), I close up. I make jokes. I do anything I can to not feel rejected. I put up a wall. Another weakness to add to the list is to focus on my insecurities and fears and not take the time to see how the other is also suffering. Marriage can't be about seeing only your hurts. He is the one getting no sleep. Taking up the slack with Zoe when I am not feeling well. He works so hard all of the time. He needs just as much support. I admit, I need to work on that the most. I tend to take care of Z and myself--letting him slide thinking he'll be okay. We all need help and support and tenderness.
It is hard to be vulnerable. Well, for me. Sadly, childhood wounds are not healed. You'd think after so many years of therapy, they would be. But, no. It seems I have no control over the ways my psyche goes about self preservation. That is, if I don't acknowledge it. My inner child takes over. At 37, I have much to work on. I have so far to go. And this post seems to just be me missing my therapist. I haven't had the heart to get one here. I loved the one I had in Chicago. It might be time.
Anyway, so I've decided to start getting back to the self I was a few months ago. I need structure again. I need to have some type of schedule. I need to get back to the gym. I need to start doing chores on a regular basis again. I need to make lists and cross things off--have some type of proven productivity. I need to start dressing for the day again instead of living in my night clothes. We've been living on take out and delivery for long enough. Jason hasn't complained. He just says it's hard to see me so sick and that he's never seen me go through anything like it before.
Most importantly, we need to start getting excited and prepared for the baby. We can't be scared to be close. We can't shy away from loving in fear of losing.
Yesterday, I was thinking about how I go about protecting myself emotionally. I made some comment about the roofer next door on FB and then I felt so bad about it--thinking it was disrespectful to Jason for me to act so silly about it. I protect myself a lot when it comes to marriage as well. I don't think Jason notices--or maybe he does. I make comments to girlfriends about things that I shouldn't. I think marriages go through many phases. I get scared during certain times. I feel lonely. He is busy working his job and getting his Master's degree. There isn't a lot of extra time just to sit and be together. Due to the relationship I had with my father growing up (a longer story, but it's okay now)--when I feel as if someone is closed off emotionally (or just very busy), I close up. I make jokes. I do anything I can to not feel rejected. I put up a wall. Another weakness to add to the list is to focus on my insecurities and fears and not take the time to see how the other is also suffering. Marriage can't be about seeing only your hurts. He is the one getting no sleep. Taking up the slack with Zoe when I am not feeling well. He works so hard all of the time. He needs just as much support. I admit, I need to work on that the most. I tend to take care of Z and myself--letting him slide thinking he'll be okay. We all need help and support and tenderness.
It is hard to be vulnerable. Well, for me. Sadly, childhood wounds are not healed. You'd think after so many years of therapy, they would be. But, no. It seems I have no control over the ways my psyche goes about self preservation. That is, if I don't acknowledge it. My inner child takes over. At 37, I have much to work on. I have so far to go. And this post seems to just be me missing my therapist. I haven't had the heart to get one here. I loved the one I had in Chicago. It might be time.
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
short lived
Well, yesterday's blissful feeling lasted only half of the day--but it's a start. I feel good again this morning. The evenings are when things get dicey. And last night Z was suffering with a cough all night. I slept with her and gave her medicine throughout the night and comforted her. She didn't sleep well. Neither did I. But, it's a new day. The lack of sleep didn't send me into a vomiting frenzy this morning, so I'll take a little fatigue.
Sadly, because last night wasn't so great, I didn't get to read in my book. I'm finishing The Hunger Games. My friend Lisa told me to read it a long time ago. I started, finished half of the book and then life got in the way. I just picked it up again to read it before I see the movie and I'm enjoying the second half a lot more. (Though the first half was good, too.) I'm excited to finish and read the other two. It's one that is hard to put down.
We have Little Gym this morning. It's chilly--but we have clear skies. By the time the weather warms up I think the sickness will be gone and life will be worth living again.
Sadly, because last night wasn't so great, I didn't get to read in my book. I'm finishing The Hunger Games. My friend Lisa told me to read it a long time ago. I started, finished half of the book and then life got in the way. I just picked it up again to read it before I see the movie and I'm enjoying the second half a lot more. (Though the first half was good, too.) I'm excited to finish and read the other two. It's one that is hard to put down.
We have Little Gym this morning. It's chilly--but we have clear skies. By the time the weather warms up I think the sickness will be gone and life will be worth living again.
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Brand New Day
I don't want to jinx it but I woke up this morning feeling great. No sickness whatever. Just feel normal--which I took for granted before. We all say we take our health for granted all of the time. It just takes feeling a bit off for a long time to realize how great you had it before. The sun is shining. It's chilly, but I'm willing to risk it for a walk. Please let this be the end of it. I'm so ready to be a happy person again.
I'll keep you posted.
I'll keep you posted.
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